This Jealousy
by Tropical Medlies
Summary: Imogen Moreno had never considered herself to be a jealous person. One-shot.


Imogen Moreno had never considered herself to be a jealous person. She was always easy to get along with on the playground - when the other kids wanted to play with her, that is - and she never had a problem sharing. She never wanted more than what other people got, and she didn't mind sharing the spotlight. In fact, she was never jealous of anything until she saw Clare Edwards with Eli Goldsworthy and even then that was the worst kind of jealousy that a person could have: an obsessive, all-consuming kind that she was finally glad to shake when she did.

But overall? Overall, she was not a jealous person. She didn't want other people's lives or grades or clothes. She didn't want their popularity or their talent or their wealth. She was happy with what she had, happy with what she would get.

That is, until Mike Dallas walked into her life and she felt the familiar stirrings of jealousy deep her in stomach once again. This wasn't the kind of jealousy she felt over Eli; oh, definitely not. This was the kind of jealousy that made her want to pin him down and punch him in the face multiple times until he walked out the doors of Degrassi and never came back.

Imogen wasn't a violent person either, on principle, but Mike - Dallas, whatever he wanted people to call him - brought that side of her out, too. Go figure.

—

She didn't have a huge problem with him the first time that she met him because she didn't know him. She knew that he was in her grade, sure, and that he was part of the hockey team transfer, but beyond that she knew nothing, and she tended to give people the benefit of the doubt. Still, just walking down the hall attracted his attention and he had turned to check her out, grinning like a sleaze.

"Hey, check out the freak," he'd said, pointing her out to another one of the boys on the team. The guy next to her turned to look and then shook his head, muttering something to Dallas. Imogen knew that boy was in her grade - his name was Owen - but she didn't know what he would have said about her. Whatever it was, it made Dallas's expression darken a little and he threw another glance at her before the entire team walked away.

—

The next time she ran into him he was standing outside of her locker, talking to one of the sophomore girls. She eyed the situation, trying to see if they were going to leave anytime soon, and finally just shrugged and headed over. "Hi! I was wondering, could you guys move over just a smidge? You're right in front of my locker and I really need to get something before my next class. Thanks, you're awesome!"

Dallas turned his gaze from the sophomore to Imogen and he slowly looked her up and down. She almost shuddered, feeling instantly uneasy, and held her books close to her chest. Finally, after almost a full minute, he shuffled to the side and gave her just enough room to squeeze by. She got her locker open and found her books, but she could still feel his eyes on her, and she finally slammed the door shut and spun around on her heel. "What's your problem?"

He grinned slowly. "My problem?"

"Yeah. What is it?" She shifted her bag on her shoulder and cocked her eyebrows upwards, putting on her best bitch face. Fiona would have been proud if she had been around to see it; as it was, she was out with a touch of the flu.

Dallas didn't say anything and peeled himself off of the locker, his eyes looking past her and down the hall. "I don't have a problem with you," he finally said, before pushing past her, making sure his shoulder caught hers and sent her back into the lockers - hard.

Imogen watched him leave, feeling deeply unsettled, and took a deep breath. Maybe she'd have to talk to Eli and Adam about this, get some boy advice.

—

Eli was livid when he heard about what was going on, and Imogen was actually a bit stunned to see his reaction. He had been so levelheaded about everything recently that it was weird to see him angry. Adam was angry, too, but he could also see the logical side of things. "Eli, we can't just charge after this guy and demand he start being nice to Imogen. We don't know everything and we can't afford to get our asses kicked if we want to help her," he reasoned, giving Imogen a smile.

She grinned cheerfully at him and reached out to pat his shoulder. "Thank you, Adam! But Eli, he is a major creepo, and I don't like it at all. I haven't even done anything to him and he seems like he's out to get me! I swear, if Fiona finds out about this she'll go ten different kinds of crazy on him and that…that just won't be pretty."

That was one thing all three of them could agree on, so they decided not to tell Fiona just yet. If the problem persisted they would, but for now they wouldn't worry her.

—

Imagine Imogen's surprise when she walked into the cafeteria one day to find Mike and Fiona sitting down casually and having what looked like a fantastic conversation. As she watched, Mike touched the sleeve of Fiona's shirt as she laughed at something he said, and her vision clouded over with tears. She spun around to leave and collided with Adam, dropping her things on the ground with a loud noise. Adam caught her by the arms, took one look at her face, and nodded behind himself, muttering that he'd get her stuff.

She went to the art room. It was always like her little sanctuary, her place to go when things got rough or when she just needed time alone. She wasn't even mad at Fiona; she was mad at Dallas for being anywhere near Fiona, for touching her at all. Jealousy was gnawing a hole in her stomach and driving her crazy, and she finally let out a little scream of frustration just as Adam entered the room, her pink bag slung over his shoulder. The sight made her smile.

"That's very becoming of you, Manly Man Torres," she said, biting her lip. He looked from her gaze to the bag and shrugged before pretending to model it.

"Thanks. I thought so. That's why we have to trade bags. I've decided I simply can't part with it." He swung it off his shoulder and placed it down next to her before leaning his elbows on the table. "Want to talk? Fiona's pretty frantic, but I told her to leave you for now."

Imogen laughed a little, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "Thanks, Adam. I just - I really want to punch that Mike Dallas in the face right now."

"I can see why you would want to do that."

"Will you do it for me?"

"The answer to that would be a resounding no, unfortunately. But I can lend you moral support and a shoulder to cry on, if you'd like? Keep in mind that I've already faced down the infamous Fiona Coyne for you today." Imogen laughed again and leaned her head against Adam's shoulder, taking him up on his offer.

"Why can't all guys be like you and not assholes like him?" she sighed, taking her glasses off and rubbing at her eyes, not even caring that her make up was going to be trashed by the time she left the room later.

Adam shrugged before remembering Imogen's head. "Sorry. Well, I'm not all guys, Im. You know that. There are going to be assholes in the world and you're going to have to deal with them and you're not always going to have Eli and I around to help you out. We're more than happy to do it - Eli would be going crazy right now if he were here - but sometimes you have to do it on your own."

Imogen was quiet for a moment before burying her face in Adam's shoulder. "Why do you have to be right?" she whined, before pulling away and then wincing. "Sorry I got make up all over your sleeve," she apologized, and he just shook his head, trying to look at the mascara tracks.

"It's fine. Look, Im, just go and find Fiona. I wasn't kidding when I said she was frantic."

—

Imogen found Fiona sitting by her locker, eyes downcast, clearly having skipped class just to wait there. The thud of Imogen's boots echoed off the empty halls and Fiona's head jerked up and then she was scrambling to her feet. "Imogen! Oh, thank God, Imogen, I had no idea where you went, and I was so worried because - "

"Shut up, Fiona," Imogen cut her off, putting a hand over her mouth. Fiona's eyebrows dipped in confusion, but she did stop talking and Imogen took her hand back. "Look, that Mike Dallas kid? He's - he's a total jerk, Fiona."

Fiona laughed, looking incredulous. "What? But I was just talking to him, he's a nice guy. He was telling me the funniest story about how - "

"He shoved me into a locker after blatantly checking me out and calling me a freak. Oh, and according to several very, very good sources, he's a homophobe," Imogen said bluntly, almost wanting to smile at the dumbstruck look at Fiona's face.

Then she wanted to run, sort of, at the eerily calm look that crossed it next. "He called you a freak?"

She nodded.

"And he checked you out?"

Another nod.

"And he shoved you into a locker?"

A third nod.

"And he's a homophobe?"

Imogen nodded a final time, looking nervous.

—

When Imogen walked into the cafeteria again the next day and found the same scene -Fiona sitting next to Dallas, Dallas touching her and making her laugh - she gritted her teeth, recalled Adam's words, found all of the jealousy that she had been harboring about this since yesterday, and made up her mind.

She walked over, tapped Dallas's shoulder, and waited for him to turn around. "Hi!" she said cheerfully. Fiona gave her a look and Dallas flat-out ignored her before continuing on.

"Actually, I was wondering something, Fiona. Would you maybe want to go out this Saturday night?"

That was it. Imogen snapped. She grabbed the front of Dallas's letterman jacket and pulled him forward, eyes flashing. "That girl right there is not another one of your little puck bunnies, okay? She is way more than that. She is beautiful and funny and smart and way too good for you. She's too good for anyone here, actually, so why don't you just back the hell off?"

Dallas pushed Imogen off of him, fixing his jacket, and smirked at her. "I'm Mike Dallas. Girls don't just say no to me. Who the hell are you?"

Imogen drew herself up to her full height. "Imogen Moreno, pleased to meet you. And I'm her _girlfriend_."

Fiona had the most pleased look on her face that Imogen had ever seen, and she held her hand out. "Well? Aren't you going to walk me to class?" she asked, just barely restraining herself from smiling, although the tone of her voice made it obvious.

Dallas was scowling now, muttering something under his breath about "lesbos" and "don't need this bullshit" but Imogen couldn't have cared less. Luckily, she had Eli and Adam to back her up as she and Fiona left the cafeteria, and she could hear Eli as they left. "What do you mean he made Imogen cry and I missed it?"

—

Fiona pulled Imogen into the art room and let go of her hand, weaving her way in between tables and stopping halfway across the room, sitting on a stool and crossing her legs. "Well, well, well. Look who has a jealous streak," she teased.

"What were you doing talking to him?" Imogen demanded, crossing her arms over chest and feeling very small. Fiona had a way of doing that to her sometimes. It wasn't in a bad way; it just happened.

"For your information, I was going to publicly humiliate him in my own way for touching my girlfriend and for calling her a freak, but I think I liked your way better. Now, come here." Fiona pointed to the spot next to where she was sitting, and Imogen rolled her eyes before uncrossing her arms and going over to Fiona. Fiona smiled at her and kissed her.

"My little hero."

"Fiona, we're never talking about this again."

"But it was so cute! Imogen, you're adorable when you get jealous!"

"It's never happening again."

"Well, I'll just have to flirt with more guys then, won't I?"

"Fiona, you wouldn't. Would you? Fiona? Oh my God, you totally would. Fiona!"

"How's that jealousy feel? I think I see your eyes changing to green."

"Just shut up."

"Don't sulk. Come here, I can think of better things for you to do before class starts than to sulk."

"…but that will ruin the integrity of the art."

"Imogen. Shut up. Screw the art."


End file.
